Forces of Connection
by dan-chan
Summary: A man finds himself upon a journey which will bring him not only to the very center of his own being, but the center of a struggle of flawed men against the world and against themselves. With friends old and new, he will have to learn what it means to connect with others, and to be balanced, should he wish to prevail


**Well here we are. After a number of setbacks and moves across the country, along with a rather odd bout of Computer destruction at the hands of an ex, I find myself writing again. I assure you that I haven't forgotten the other story. It will find its completion in due time. Though don't expect it to be an exceptionally long one. After all, episodic stories such as Angels over Lumiose city are meant to be short and to the point, each chapter a self contained story.**

 **I will say that it is actually important as a story, and it does feed into this one, just as Rowan and Arias story is meant to feed into this one, albeit indirectly. As a matter of fact, that one will be getting its completion chapter, which will, I'm sorry to say, be somewhat short and to the point. After all, it is meant more to establish a few factors which play into this story. Which I will say, outright deals with a higher spiritual calling and the Role of all 5 characters of note in establishing and exploring the hidden world underneath the main pokemon world.**

 **Once again, I invite you to enjoy your time reading this. We once again find ourselves in Kalos region. Where I have chosen to allow my characters to live. Though by now we have sun and moon, along with ultra sun and moon, I felt that the region of Kalos does deserve some love, after all, it does present a fascinating chance to look at a number of social issues people tend to forget about.**

 **So I invite you to partake of your favorite Vintage (2004 is an excellent vintage if I do say so myself), enjoy your favorite snack, and please, join me as we take one more look into the world of Pokemon from the perspective of our new friend as he finds his own deeper spiritual purpose.**

 **Without further adieu, I invite you to read:**

 **Forces of Connection.**

A Tale of the spirit.

What does it mean to be connected?

This word alone carries many different connotations and meanings that to parse them out would take days, if not weeks. Especially when we begin studying the intricacies of the term. However, perhaps they all refer back to a single meaning? Or perhaps they refer to something so much more primal that we try to cloak in words a sensation we feel spontaneously but never have quite the articulation to expound upon. We speak of connection in terms of interpersonal connections. A mother and her Child. A Husband and his Wife. A Mentor and the Mentored. A Student and his Teacher.

Perhaps, as they say, the ultimate purpose is not to describe one thing in particular, but rather to hint at the truth of the world. We all understand that through connections to others, we define ourselves. We gain insight into each other, but we also see ourselves for who we are. We are Flawed beings who grow old, we age, we die, and we feel suffering. We learn, in time, that we are the architects of our own suffering. This is the second noble truth of the world. That our own actions towards others and ourselves bring us and others suffering. Be it intentional or be it unintentional.

But what does it mean to bring ourselves suffering? Is it through connection that we find suffering? Or is it through our inaction that we bring ourselves to suffering?

What if it's a little bit of both? What if we choose to live a life where we value safety of the self so much that we never challenge ourselves? What if in doing so, we condemn ourselves to suffer in languor and regret? Is it possible then, that in ensuring safety, we ultimately bring ourselves not safety but ruin?

When one considers the strangeness of life, and how connection relates them to the world writ large, they would do well to remember their own place in it. For they are ultimately the architects of their own demise. Their inability to recognize themselves for what they are brings them the illusion of awareness, but at the cost of true enlightenment.

So it is perhaps best if I first described my own place in the world. If, for no other reason, so that you, whoever you are, can understand my place, and how the concept of connection changed my world to such a degree. For you see, as much as I was the architect of my own place in the world, I too was responsible for my own suffering. This is what I want you to remember first and foremost as you read my account of the strange events that took place.

But you see, in order to understand the cause of my suffering, and the strange events which followed, I need to take you back to the beginning.

I was born in Aquacorde Town. I grew up in an otherwise normal family. My family was of your average sort. Mother, Father, a strange Sister, and an overly zealous and eager to please brother. I went to school with the rest of the kids. I even enjoyed football (Soccer to those in the Unova region). I did good in class. I even had friends and once got into a bit of a brawl over a girl. About the only thing that caused me to stand out was one thing:

I didn't have a Pokemon.

It is typical for children to gain their first Pokemon, be it through catching one, purchasing one, or even being given an assignment by the local authority figure on Pokemon and having a Pokemon gym quest. It was such a common occurrence that the whole thing was seen as an important starting point for a career in the Pokemon trades.

But did you know that this wasn't the case for all of us? I was one of those kids. No Pokemon of my own, and no desire to go into the Pokemon trades. I was a bookworm. I spent my days reading science fiction and classical literature. When I wasn't reading, I was taking apart my toys and learning how they went back together. By the age of 12, I had built my own computer from the IC chips. It worked well enough despite being much less powerful than what most people had. However, it taught me the important functions of the computer and how to program. By 15 I had written my own operating system for the little computer.

That was me. A technologist.

But, what should be noted is that it wasn't that I didn't care about Pokemon.

I was afraid.

In all honesty, I was scared of the world. I was scared to go out and catch a Pokemon, I was scared to leave my home and explore. I was scared, frankly, to take a risk and challenge the Pokemon gyms and earn a name for myself.

Instead, I went into the technologist's courses and eventually graduated from College at the age of 20 with an electrical engineering degree. From there, I went on to work for Professor Sycamore, designing and testing some of the devices he wanted. While I knew some physics and read some of the technical journals, I didn't care much for that process. So instead I designed the circuits and OS that made the machines work.

In all fairness, that should have been the end of it all. Have a decent job, work till I was old, and then retire and die or something.

Instead... I ran an errand.

"Hey, Lucas. How's the Motherboard going?"

Sycamore had stopped into the Laboratory a few hours early that morning. The previous weekend he had been out at the Santalune research center. Due to the research collaboration that he had enacted a number of years earlier, he occasionally went out into the field research center to collect data from one of his colleagues and bring it back to the lab for further analysis. On those days, he tended to arrive a few hours early.

Normally, the lab was empty until about 08:30 in the morning, then the researchers, engineers, scientists, and even Pokemon trainers would begin filtering in, marking the start to a rather busy day. However, before then, it was typically dead.

Save for one person this morning it seemed.

Sycamore had been on his way to his office when his attention was drawn to the faint glow of a computer screen coming from one of the offices. Thinking that one of the workers had simply left his terminal unsecured, Sycamore had gone in to lock the terminal and perhaps play a joke by adjusting the display settings. To his surprise, however, he found, not an empty desk, but for me at the terminal, my fingers dancing across the keyboard in a veritable flurry of activity.

I'd been in working constantly for the last 3 days straight. The effects of three days work were showing. Stubble marked my face, my crew cut hair was rather askew, and my eyes had taken on a slight darkness around them, indicative of the lack of sleep I no doubt suffered from. Music rang softly from the headphones around my neck, and my feet were drawn up into a cross-legged sitting position. My shoes were somewhere forgotten under my desk.

Initially, I didn't even notice Sycamore. I was on a roll. The final compiling was underway and I was just about through with a debugging cycle that had dragged on for the better part of the last 36 hours. Part of the problem with farming your programming out was that when it came time to test it against the OS, there was always some manner of problems that needed solving.

But that was fine. That was what I was good at. You look at code all day and you work like this, you stop caring about sleep.

"Hey Professor, Just doing a final check out of the code. It should be ready for deployment in like... I dunno. Few hours I guess" I muttered.

Sycamore looked on with a dubious expression, then shrugged.

"Hey do me a favor?" The man asked.

"Anything but feed your Pokemon" I responded.

Sycamore gave a perplexed look, then leaned against the door with a shift in emotion to curious. His head tilted to the side as he looked at the man who sat in seeming serenity, typing away endlessly and seeming oblivious to the world around him.

"Well, We got some parts in from someone I know. He's been working on securing a plasma infuser and recently came across it. Some guy named Regi Nets. He lives on Vernal Avenue, near the Friseur Furfrou, you know it?"

With an offhand shrug, I gave a general grunt of acknowledgment.

A slight scoff was the only real indication from Sycamore that he took that as a yes.

"Anyways, I need someone to swing by and pick it up. Since you're here early like, I was wondering if you'd be the one to take care of it."

At this, I tensed up in a show of surprise and nervousness. However, I had become an expert in diverting my trepidation and distaste into a practiced, logical argument.

"I wasn't aware the plasma physics integration test was today. I mean, why not just wait until one of your junior assistants comes in? Seems like it'd be better for them to do the job than me right?"

Sycamore gave a slight smirk. One that was almost undetectable to anyone who did not have empathic insight.

"Normally, but then again, those kids wouldn't know a multiphasic plasma coupler from a Plasma Infuser, much less what they do. I'd rather have someone who knows his way around electromagnetic devices and containment vessels do it than some wet behind the ear kid."

"Fair point" I countered "But even then I'm not a plasma physicist. I stand an equal chance of messing the device up."

That should have been it. The conversation should have stopped there and I went on back to my work on debugging the OS (Still compiling). The professor should have moved on and just forgotten about asking the electrical engineer to run this seemingly routine task.

"I want you to do it. " Was all he replied.

With that, I swung myself around in the chair and faced the professor. I took my headphones off, then leaned against the armrest. With confusion in my voice, I asked: "Why?"

"Because I know how you get around Pokemon. I'd ask if you didn't think you should fix that, but I figure, why not just help you by occasionally giving you contact with them? Heck, you might even come to like them. "

After a moments thought, I gave a slight sigh.

"I'm not really afraid of Pokemon really..."

Mischievousness arose in Sycamore. A sense of curiosity and a desire to prod became evident to him.

"Then what are you afraid of?" He asked.

"That's kind of personal, don't you think?" I asked.

"Lucas, there's one thing you gotta know about us here. We are more a family than we are a workplace. Even though you might not feel entirely comfortable sharing, sometimes we have to know these things so as to understand each other's limits. So I'll ask again: what are you afraid of?"

That took me off guard. I didn't have a good response to him. Just a feeling. A feeling of vulnerability, a sense of danger and dread at facing something... hidden.

"It's Just... I'm not the adventurous type, ok? When I was a kid, everyone was going off having little Pokemon quests and I don't know what happened to them. I always found myself thinking "What if they got killed? What if I go out and get killed? What if I come across something that's so strong I just die and that's it?" A pile of bones on the side of the road, no one to mourn or even know. That's freaking terrifying. I'd just assume avoid that and dedicate myself to something honorable like helping you work on whatever that device is you've got going on"

After a moment of silence, Augustine Sycamore gave a slight nod.

"I can understand that. I can respect that. But I'll ask you a simple question: Are you fine being a coward?"

Silence filled the room. Broken only by the humming of the computer, which had taken on a more ominous sound in the passing moments since Sycamores question.

I looked back at the computer for a moment. The normally welcome and warm glow of the computer had taken on a more ominous feeling. As if it were no longer a warm embrace I could slide in, but a malevolent being who enslaved the self to the dread and tedium that defined a slaves life.

"I'm not a coward..." was all I could manage.

"Then how about I have you take care of that part retrieval for me for a start and show me that you're not a coward eh?"

Clever Bastard...

That was how I found myself walking up 4 flights of stairs of some random apartment on Vernal avenue. Midway up from the 3rd floor, some Hungarians walked out of their apartment then began going at it with a few Italian neighbors. Their exclamations in their own language added a confusing mix of chaos to the apartment building itself.

Run down in nature, it looked as if it was built before the 2nd regional war that happend a number of years back. The architecture suggested style and elegance, yet the wear and tear suggested long forgotten decadence replaced by a sense of aesthetic made to imply that you lived in opulance, but enjoyed none of its splendor. This was most evident as I leaned against the railing on the wall to let the warring neighbors past, and heard a dull cracking noise come from the wall. A sign of its age.

After I had gotten past them, I soon found the apartment in question. There was little noise coming from inside. Though based upon the sounds of footsteps and the occasional muffled words, it was clear someone was home. As I held my hand up to knock, a wave of worry came over me, this gave way to a sense of nervousness which was, frankly, unexplainable. I had a sudden urge to run away. To just turn around, walk off, and lie to Sycamore and tell him I couldn't find the place, or that nobody was home.

But.

But I got this far. This looked like an otherwise normal neighborhood. Whatever sense of trepidation I felt, seemed to be misplaced. Indeed, I was probably just nervous because this would be the first time I actually spoke to someone who was not my employer or co worker.

With that in mind, I tapped on the door. To my surprise, it gave way and creaked open. It was then that the muffled voice became discernable enough to be recognized as two distinct voices.

"Ya know I don't mind if you take time off to meet your Folks Aura. Ain't nothing big going on. "

"Look Regi, I'm not asking for time off." Came a distinctly feminine voice, "I'm asking if you'd like to come and meet them"

"Oh no," the other voice said, this time with some annoyance, "You and I may be friends but I ain't going to one of your weird moon dance festivals or whatever"

"You are so insensitive!" The woman cried out, "It's a sacred ceremony that is meant to deepen our connection with the world and each other! It's not some mindless little party where all you do is get drunk and slobber on the floor before being thrown out the back and into a few women of the night who too have found themselves a home on the ground!"

"That's... Incredibly, and rather disturbingly specific. If you're referring to the Rio incident I-"

Regi was cut off by me suddenly knocking louder.

"Oh sweet tap dancing Christ and now we have someone at the door. Jesus Your psychic abilities didn't pick him up?" Regi groaned.

"Well excuse me Beh Regi, but I am not omniscient." The woman muttered.

"Yeah yeah. I get that kid..." Regi muttered as his footsteps drew closer to the door.

"For the last time I'm not a...!"

Her complaints faded as he opened the door rather suddenly. Regi looked to be in his mid 30's. Though honestly his features seemed older somehow. As if he carried some burden beneath the surface of an otherwise calm and collected exterior. He wore a cheap suit shirt and dress pants. However, his shoes were polished black and caught the reflection of the lights and even the interior of the apartment surprisingly well. He lacked a formal tie, and his top button was loose. His hair was slicked back and smelled of pomade.

He gave me an appraising look, then his right eyebrow perked up.

"Let me guess. Someone stole something from you and you need help getting it back?" He asked in a bemused tone of voice.

After a few false starts, I finally collected my wits enough to speak.

"Uh, no I'm actually here to get something Augustine Sycamore said you had. It's a Plasma Infuser. He said you had it and I needed to bring it back to the lab."

Regi gave a slight chuckle, then leaned against the door, his arms crossing over his chest in a slightly defensive posture.

"Doesn't the Prof usually send one of his minion kids to run his errands?" He asked.

His eyes flicked about briefly, then glanced over my shoulder. However, his eyes settled back onto me, then he began to talk.

"Especially a mid rate engineer who cares more about some job programming and spending nights on end without sleep. Much less the time and effort to go home and get change. Tell me, how many energy drinks did you consume last night to make it through till dawn? Was it 3 or 4? Must be tough being awake for multiple nights in a row. The fact that you still have the energy to go out and run his little tasks is frankly kind of astonishing. But then, I guess when you are more concerned with your career than going home to get your showers, it must not be very difficult to muster up the energy to go the extra mile. Will he give you a raise? Are you desperate for a promotion? So desperate that you'd go the extra mile and even run meaningless errands that some 10 year old could probably do better than you?"

...Ok, this took an unexpected and frankly personal turn.

"Uh... actually I-"

Regi looked as if he wanted to say more but was cut off as a green tinted hand reached out from somewhere beyond the door, grabbed him, then pushed him aside.

Initially, I was confused by this action. Then I glanced down slightly to see that a Gardevoir had shoved him out of the way, then gave him a glare which seemed to suggest mental torture or outright violence was to come. Her eyes flashed a look of irritation that was tempered by exasperation before she finally looked at me, then gave a friendly smile.

This was... Unexpected. The Gardevoir stood about 5 foot 4 and oddly enough her eyes seemed to trend more purple than the typical red that Gardevoir had. She wore, strangely enough, a white dress which showed off her shoulders, yet had special care taken in order to allow a brilliant red jewel to emerge between her breasts. Her hair was shoulder length and lacked the typical hard bob most Gardevoir posessed. As if her hair were more silk like than it was a helmet. Her skin was noticably less pale than others. In fact, it had a slight tan to it.

Frankly, she looked more human than Gardevoir all things considered.

With an apologetic smile, she looked at Regi once more, then to myself "Sorry about him. He's an unabashed sociopath. One step away from that deranged mathematician that they did those movies on but not quite as bad as that Detective from those Mystery books. I'm Aura Sic Gingko. His assistant."

 **This is the official start of the story. This is considered the third part in the overall trilogy. Angels over Lumiose City serves as the connection between the two main stories, but does little more than introduce plot elements, or at least allude to them as they show up here. Perhaps it is fitting that when I say social issues, I should mention that I do not mean the current social upheavals that you may see in your day to day life. Rather, I refer to something more personal, more intimate. And that is the balance we all learn in life that gives us a moral center to make decisions and truly blossom as people. While it may be exceptionally easy to write about Frances upheavals or even upheavals here in the U.S., I find that sometimes, we would much rather have a quiet escape. Where we can grow in our own way and not have to be reminded of whatever unpleasantness may persist in our lives.**

 **This story is for you, the reader, to hopefully find some deeper meaning in your life, to find compassion and understanding, and to seek a release from whatever trials may face you. I do not expect to give you the answers. Rather, I hope that I can pass along some lessons I've learned as a Buddhist while also giving you a moments release from your troubles.**

 **This entire story though has been in development hell for the last like... year or two. I had a lot of things happen in the interim, and frankly abandoned the story project there for a while. However, elements were still worked on. Mostly as a few unconnected ideas and notions that have been coming together for a while. The final piece fell into place a short time ago, and finally linked the intent to the important pieces of character.**

 **In this case, it's kind of clear I'm going at this from a different angle. Rather than an eager researcher (Rowan), A Former Agent with a broken moral compass (Regi), and the youthful curiousness of main female role (Aura and Aria), I decided to go with the coward. The man who is afraid to take a journey that is uniquely his.**

 **The biggest challenge was deciding how to have a character both refuse the call and yet be compelled into the field of the unknown. This, for the most part, has been resolved.**

 **I look forward to hearing from you all again.**

 **And if this is your first time, welcome. I'm glad you could stop by**

 **Welcome back.**

 **Dan.**


End file.
